<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Fishies and Smurfs by terma_archivist</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536027">Fishies and Smurfs</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist'>terma_archivist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The X-Files</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dialogue-Only, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>1999-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>1999-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:21:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,336</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536027</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/terma_archivist/pseuds/terma_archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Krycek find themselves stuck in rather close quarters.. devilish things follow.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alex Krycek/Fox Mulder</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TER/MA</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fishies and Smurfs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Note from alicettlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at <a href="https://fanlore.org/wiki/TER/MA">TER/MA</a> and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/collections/terma/profile">the TER/MA collection profile</a>.<br/>In case you find it a bit hard to follow at first, it's late at night in D.C., there's not much to do, and Mulder is in the Hoover Building, as usual. This is set after Tunguska but before Patient X/The Red and the Black.. thus, there was no kiss. I assume some nice things about our beloved Krycek. If you want him cruel and evil and betraying, go elsewhere. Another note—any smacking sounds you might hear are a result of kissing, not slapping. The beatings are portrayed in other ways. And, um, this is fanciful and silly, so I don't much care if the details are accurate. Rating: R for plentiful, unabashed swearing and non-explicit though fairly obvious sex between two men. If you're offended or young, skedaddle. Danke. And if you are offended, you should probably go and get a clue. Warning: This is one of the first fanfic things I ever tried to write. It's an all-dialogue parody type thing.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><b>Fishies and Smurfs<br/>by Meri Lomelindi</b>
</p>
<p> 
<br/> &lt;swoosh of elevator door&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;click of button&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;gasp&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;sharp intake of breath&gt;
</p>
<p>"KRYCEK, you motherfucking bastard!"
</p>
<p>&lt;slam&gt; &lt;groan of agony, maybe exaggerated, maybe not&gt;
</p>
<p>"Mulder, be reasonable.  I never fucked your moth—"
</p>
<p>"That's right, you scumsucking rat, you killed my father instead."
</p>
<p>"I didn't do that either.."
</p>
<p>&lt;slam&gt;  "You're a LIAR, Krycek, a filthy—"
</p>
<p>&lt;clang.  elevator stops.  clatter.  oof of someone falling&gt;
</p>
<p>"SHIT."
</p>
<p>"What a foul mouth you have these days, Mulder."
</p>
<p>&lt;ragged breath&gt;
</p>
<p>"Shut the fuck up and get off of me!"
</p>
<p>&lt;roll&gt; &lt;smallish clatter&gt;
</p>
<p>"What the hell!!!!?"
</p>
<p>"It falls off sometimes, Mulder."
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt; &lt;footsteps&gt; &lt;bang&gt;
</p>
<p>"The door won't open."
</p>
<p>"Duh.  We're stuck."
</p>
<p>"No, there's an emergency button."
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt;  "It doesn't seem to be working, Mulder."
</p>
<p>&lt;quietly&gt;  "Jesus H. Christ on a fucking FROG."
</p>
<p>"That's not the way you say it; it's Jesus. H. Christ on a—"
</p>
<p>"Oh, shove it.  I'll say whatever I want.  I've got the gun."  &lt;pause&gt;  "We have to get out of here—"
</p>
<p>"Mulder—the Hoover building may be open right now, but it isn't exactly overflowing with people, and there isn't a soul who's going to hear us—"
</p>
<p>"Someone might check."
</p>
<p>"Yes, I'm sure the security guards have been waiting all day to see if you'd get trapped in an elevator with a one-armed ex-FBI agent."
</p>
<p>"One—" &lt;choke&gt; "—armed serial killing psychopath."
</p>
<p>"Jeez, Mulder, stop with the dramatics.  Come ON."  &lt;pause&gt;  "Does it bother you?  My arm?"
</p>
<p>"Of course not!  It's your own fault, for jumping out of the truck."
</p>
<p>&lt;sullen silence from both parties&gt;
</p>
<p>"What the fuck are you doing here anyway, Krycek?  Spying on me again?"
</p>
<p>&lt;snicker&gt;  "Mulder, this way come as a shock, but not everything revolves around you.  I was just removing a few choice files."
</p>
<p>&lt;snort&gt;  "Typical.  And you just &lt;happened&gt; to end up on this elevator at the exact same time that I—"
</p>
<p>"Oh, no.  This one is your fault, Mulder."
</p>
<p>"What—" &lt;another oof&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;scuffle&gt; &lt;pant&gt;
</p>
<p>"Let go of my neck."
</p>
<p>&lt;sigh of exasperation&gt;  "If we're stuck here, I might as well extract some information from that devious, foul-minded brain of yours."
</p>
<p>"You're welcome to try, but I'm not going to say a word until I fix my prosthesis and we discuss how it's all your fault.  And don't stare at me.  Didn't your mother teach you that it's rude to stare at a cripple?"
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt; &lt;stomping noises&gt; "I wasn't <i>staring</i>.  I was <i>glaring</i> because you're a two-faced rat bastard and you—"
</p>
<p>"Shh, Mulder.  I'm trying to concentrate."
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;  "Does it really take you that long to put it on?"
</p>
<p>"Yeah.  You wanna help?"
</p>
<p>"No!"
</p>
<p>"Be quiet, then."
</p>
<p>&lt;rustle of cloth&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;softly&gt;  "That looks really jagged."
</p>
<p>"Duh."
</p>
<p>"But—didn't they—"
</p>
<p>"Mulder, they were peasants.  They didn't have the most sophisticated instruments."
</p>
<p>"I know.  They were going to 'help' me as well."
</p>
<p>"Gee, Mulder.  You almost sound repentant."
</p>
<p>"It's NOT my fault, you little—"
</p>
<p>"You're the one who kidnapped me.  If I hadn't lost my arm, I wouldn't be relegated to informational subterfuge, and we never would have gotten stuck—"
</p>
<p>"I am not about to sit here and listen to your garbage dump of demented logic, Krycek.  That's not even your real NAME."
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt;
</p>
<p>"You wanna know what my real name is?"
</p>
<p>"As if you would tell me."
</p>
<p>"Moby."
</p>
<p>"Moby?"
</p>
<p>"Moby Dick.  Yep."
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt; &lt;barely modulated anger&gt;  "You're lower than scum.  You should be—"
</p>
<p>&lt;something suspiciously akin to a giggle&gt;  "It's so easy to push your buttons, Mulder.. but don't fume, really."  &lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>"Alexei Petrov."
</p>
<p>"Seriously?"
</p>
<p>"No, I'm lying to you about it even though my real name was taken out of any sort of records you could possibly find when I was a ten year old and it wouldn't do you any good to know it in the first place because half of Russia is Petrov, not to mention the Alexeis..."
</p>
<p>"So you ARE Russian."
</p>
<p>"Mulder, sometimes you are beyond dense."
</p>
<p>&lt;long pause&gt;
</p>
<p>"Well, you still have a stupid-ass haircut.  The worst one I've ever seen."
</p>
<p>"No argument there.  But at least I don't look like a chipmunk-"
</p>
<p>"A CHIPMUNK?"
</p>
<p>"See, your voice even rises to Chip and Dale standards when outraged.  You could get a job at one of those clubs."
</p>
<p>&lt;throat clearing&gt; &lt;primly&gt; "I will not stoop to this petty-"
</p>
<p>"You've never minded it before."
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;  "Are you DONE yet?  Jesus."
</p>
<p>&lt;click&gt;  "Yes."  &lt;swoosh&gt;  "Is it working properly?"
</p>
<p>"Alright, it's fine—you don't have to swing it in my face-"
</p>
<p>&lt;silence&gt;
</p>
<p>"Well?"
</p>
<p>"Well, what?"
</p>
<p>"Are you going to tell me anything?"
</p>
<p>"You know my name.  Isn't that enough?"
</p>
<p>"You know what I mean; don't play games with me, Krycek.  I want to know the truth, and I'm going to get it out of you if I have to-"
</p>
<p>"Okay, okay.  Let me think."
</p>
<p>"Hurry up!"
</p>
<p>"Uhm.. I like cheese."
</p>
<p>"Listen, you spying, backstabbing little-"
</p>
<p>&lt;patiently&gt;  "I'm not little, Mulder.  I'm as tall as you are.  And if you thought for a moment instead of being driven by your lust for revenge, you'd realize that I'll be much more cooperative if you allow me time to gather my thoughts and stop trying to pound me into oblivion.  Dead people can't talk."
</p>
<p>&lt;rustle&gt;  &lt;throat clearing&gt;  "This—enclosed space—it's becoming rather hot, if you hadn't noticed."
</p>
<p>"Loosen your tie."
</p>
<p>"Don't smirk at me.  I'll do nothing of the sort."
</p>
<p>"Take off your tie, then."
</p>
<p>"And I would take it off.. why, exactly?" &lt;dubious&gt;
</p>
<p>"It's a stupid-ass tie, obviously."
</p>
<p>"It is not a stupid-ass tie.  It happens to have a very deep and symbolic meaning.  For your information, Krycek, the spotted fish represent—"
</p>
<p>"It's purple, for god's sake.  Mulder—it's a stupid-ass tie."
</p>
<p>"It's a tie.  It doesn't have an ass."
</p>
<p>"Neither does hair."
</p>
<p>"That's different.  Ties don't have asses.  Hair is attached to you, and you have an ass, so it can be stupid-ass hair.  Ties, on the other hand.."
</p>
<p>"Oh, so you were noticing my ass?" &lt;growl&gt; &lt;chortle&gt;  "I bet the fish have asses, Mulder.  You're still wrong."
</p>
<p>&lt;ring&gt;
</p>
<p>"HOLY FUCK!  Mulder, you had a cell phone the whole time and you didn't use it when we first got in here?"
</p>
<p>&lt;mildly sheepish&gt;  "I forgot—Mulder."
</p>
<p>"Well!?  Who is it?  I want out—"
</p>
<p>"Shush." &lt;pause&gt;  "Scully, I have a question of great scientific importance to ask you."
</p>
<p>"MULDER—"
</p>
<p>"No, I just—yeah—no, that's just a guy from the copy room— yeah—thanks, Scully.  I knew you'd corroborate."
</p>
<p>"What!?"
</p>
<p>"Scully says that, biologically speaking, fish don't have asses.  They have—"
</p>
<p>"Mulder, you flaming idiot, ask her about finding someone to fix the elevator!  We're TRAPPED, remember?"
</p>
<p>"Oh, right.  Listen, Scully, I'm—no, wait—I have to—"
</p>
<p>&lt;bzz&gt; &lt;pfft&gt;
</p>
<p>"She hung up."
</p>
<p>"So call her back, or call the front desk.  Honestly, Mulder, one would think that your eidetic memory would have allowed you to remember that you had a phone—Jesus—"
</p>
<p>&lt;ominous click&gt; &lt;shaking of phone&gt;
</p>
<p>"What are you waiting for, Mulder?"
</p>
<p>"Uh—it's out of batteries."
</p>
<p>"Since when?"
</p>
<p>"Right now.
</p>
<p>"Right now?"
</p>
<p>"YES.  Just shut up."
</p>
<p>&lt;rustle&gt;  "You're right, it is hot.  And we could be here for hours before someone finds us."
</p>
<p>&lt;gasp of alarm&gt;  "Krycek, what are you doing?"
</p>
<p>"I should think that it would be fairly obvious, Mulder, that I'm taking off my shirt.  Much as you'd like to see me dead, you don't want to sleep next to a dead body, do you?"
</p>
<p>"Dead body?  And who says I'm sleeping—"
</p>
<p>"Heat exhaustion.  It's very possible, Mulder.  You should follow my example. Even though there are air vents, the air isn't circulating very well, and it is getting rather steamy, as you yourself mentioned - you see my point."
</p>
<p>"Steamy?"
</p>
<p>"Yeah."
</p>
<p>"I never said it was steamy.  It is NOT steamy.  It's.. hot.  Warm.  Unpleasant."
</p>
<p>"Mulder, just take your shirt off before you flood the elevator with sweat.  Then we'd definitely die."
</p>
<p>"Shut up, fuckwad."
</p>
<p>"I'm still—amazed—at your capacity for inserting expletives into almost every sentence.  This never happened while we were partners."
</p>
<p>"And I'm amazed that your vocabulary includes words that are more than one syllable unless you're reading from a script.  In fact, I'm amazed that you were able to memorize the script you read from when we were partners."
</p>
<p>&lt;rustle&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;reluctantly&gt;  "This is.. better."
</p>
<p>"I knew you'd come around, Mulder."
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>"Don't raise your eyebrows like that.  It's annoying."
</p>
<p>"And you can dictate what's annoying?"
</p>
<p>"I doubt you're really going to shoot me, Mulder—not while we're still stuck in here, at least.  And—speaking of that—" &lt;lunge, scuffle&gt;  "it's time we balanced things out."
</p>
<p>&lt;more scuffling&gt; &lt;pant&gt; &lt;groan&gt; &lt;meep&gt; &lt;clatter&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;strangled&gt;  "Krycek, you can't unload my—"
</p>
<p>&lt;sound of something being tossed across the elevator&gt; &lt;small bouncing noises&gt;
</p>
<p>"The AIR vent?"
</p>
<p>"It won't hurt it."
</p>
<p>"I want my bullets back, you miserable little bastard.  Someone needs to relieve you of your vital organs."
</p>
<p>"I'm not the one who looks miserable right now, Mulder."
</p>
<p>"Krycek.." &lt;growl&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;long pause&gt; &lt;shuffling noises&gt;
</p>
<p>"Mmm.  Much more comfortable."
</p>
<p>"If you're not going to give me any relevant information, just shut the hell up, would you?"
</p>
<p>"What is it you want then, Mulder?"
</p>
<p>&lt;sharply&gt; "What do you mean?"
</p>
<p>"Obviously you didn't REALLY want us to be rescued—after all, you forgot the phone and when you did use it you didn't even bother to tell Scully—and then you lied about my identity—so I figured you must have some sort of ulterior motive."
</p>
<p>"Maybe I just wanted that information."
</p>
<p>"It would have been more productive to have gotten me out of here and tortured." &lt;pause&gt;  "It's your fault, Mulder, not mine, so you can't put the blame on me just by glaring."
</p>
<p>"Fuck you, Alexei Petrov." &lt;dripping with sarcasm&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt;  "Why, Mulder, I never thought you'd be so direct about it - but in this case, I can hardly object."
</p>
<p>"You little shit!  You know I didn't mean—"
</p>
<p>"No, but I did."
</p>
<p>&lt;hack&gt; &lt;gasp&gt;  "Stop messing with me, Krycek."
</p>
<p>"I haven't touched you at all, Mulder—you're the one who keeps jumping on top of me—and I was perfectly serious."
</p>
<p>"I wasn't jumping on top of you, I was subduing you.  You're a prisoner.  You're a criminal.  A dangerous criminal."
</p>
<p>"Mhmm.  And I was going to escape, at any moment, even though I was and am stuck in an elevator with you—but whatever you say, Mulder.  Who am I to contradict the law, after all?"
</p>
<p>"Exactly.  Don't contradict me, then."
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt; &lt;chortle&gt;  "You know I have nothing on my record, right?"
</p>
<p>"Fuckwad."
</p>
<p>"Repeating yourself so soon?"
</p>
<p>&lt;uncomfortable silence&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;tapping noise&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;throat clearing&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;tapping continues&gt;
</p>
<p>"Do you have to do that?"
</p>
<p>"I'm just passing the time, Mulder."
</p>
<p>"Well—what kind of beat is that, anyway?"
</p>
<p>&lt;continued tapping&gt;  "It's Depeche Mode."
</p>
<p>"Oh."
</p>
<p>&lt;tap, tap, tap, tap..&gt;
</p>
<p>"You were listening to my MUSIC, Krycek?  What good would that do?"
</p>
<p>"Huh?"
</p>
<p>"Obviously you must have heard that they were one of my favorites back at Oxford.."
</p>
<p>"No, I hadn't."
</p>
<p>"There's no point in lying, and it's not as if—"
</p>
<p>"You don't have to be a moron ALL the time, you know.  Like I said.  Not everything revolves around you.  I like Depeche Mode because I like Depeche Mode, and when I was at Quantico my best friend played them all the time."
</p>
<p>"You had a best friend?"
</p>
<p>"Yes, Mulder, I had friends."
</p>
<p>"Not now?"
</p>
<p>"I'm kind of on the run now.  Not much quality time to spend with anyone."
</p>
<p>"Oh.  Um.  So what song?"
</p>
<p>&lt;hum&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt;  "Oh, no.."
</p>
<p>"You can't tell what it is?  Oh.  Sorry.  Here—"
</p>
<p>&lt;singing&gt;  "My heart is aching; my body is burning.."
</p>
<p>"SHUT UP."
</p>
<p>"Okay, okay.  You did want to know what the song was."
</p>
<p>"Krycek, I am <i>this</i> far from wringing your sorry little neck."
</p>
<p>"Dead bodies, Mulder.  They smell."
</p>
<p>"Bastard."
</p>
<p>&lt;long silence&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;bump&gt; &lt;oof&gt;  "Oh.  I didn't know your arm was there."
</p>
<p>"Well, it's not really an arm, so it's not like it matters."
</p>
<p>"Well, I suppose not."
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>"Are you gay?"
</p>
<p>"What?"
</p>
<p>"Don't pretend you didn't hear me, Krycek."
</p>
<p>"Alright.  Fine, Mulder.  Yes.  I'm gay.  Why did you want to know?"
</p>
<p>"No reason.  I'd just never pegged you as a.."
</p>
<p>"Queer."
</p>
<p>&lt;strained laugh&gt;  "Yeah.  I guess."
</p>
<p>"I didn't think you would."
</p>
<p>"Well, the leather jacket thing doesn't exactly scream—"
</p>
<p>"Yes, it does.  I can be very stereotypical when I choose."
</p>
<p>&lt;silence&gt;
</p>
<p>"Mulder?  At the risk of being killed myself..."
</p>
<p>"Yeah?"
</p>
<p>"I really didn't kill your father."
</p>
<p>"You didn't."
</p>
<p>"No—you don't have to look THAT unconvinced.  Jeez."  &lt;voice softening&gt;  "I know you're in denial, and I know you won't believe a word I say now, but maybe later.. Mulder.  You know he took his own life."
</p>
<p>&lt;shuddering breath&gt;  "Yeah.  I know."
</p>
<p>"You do?"
</p>
<p>"Yeah.  It's easier to blame you."
</p>
<p>"Oh.  I thought—I thought you were going to punch me out again."
</p>
<p>"There's really no point, Krycek.  I know you didn't kill my father.  Maybe I've just rationalized everything—but I don't particularly care, at the moment.  I may despise you, but for the duration of our elevator stay I am sick of this verbal bantering, so we might as well be cordial."
</p>
<p>&lt;nervous snort&gt;  "Don't fuck with me, Mulder."
</p>
<p>"I'm not.  Swear to god."
</p>
<p>"You don't believe in god, moron."
</p>
<p>"Allah, then."
</p>
<p>"That either."
</p>
<p>"Buddha?"
</p>
<p>"Uh uh."
</p>
<p>"Okay, I swear on the truth."
</p>
<p>"Better."
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>"Hey, Mulder."
</p>
<p>"Yeah?"
</p>
<p>"Have you ever been with another man?" &lt;scratch of boots against floor&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;scuffle&gt; &lt;clang&gt;  "Oh, no—just because I don't want to annihilate you doesn't mean that I—KRYCEK—I'm NOT that way!!"
</p>
<p>"Are you sure, Mulder?"
</p>
<p>"I'm su—get off me!!  Now!!"
</p>
<p>"Okay, okay.  Jeez.  You're so uptight."
</p>
<p>"No—no.  The other side of the elevator.  I want you over in that corner.  And stay there."
</p>
<p>&lt;footsteps&gt; &lt;rustle of fabric&gt;  "Bah.  Homophobes."
</p>
<p>"Don't roll your eyes at me.  You planned this, didn't you—"
</p>
<p>"No, but I always believe in taking advantage of any opportunity that might present itself."
</p>
<p>"Taking advantage of ME, you mean."
</p>
<p>"Mulder, I wouldn't dream of taking advantage of anyone.  I always require full consent when I—"
</p>
<p>"Shut the fuck UP.  I have absolutely no desire to be apprised of the gruesome details of your conquests."
</p>
<p>"Back to the monotone, are we, Mulder?"
</p>
<p>"Go fuck yourself, since you're certainly not going to have me."
</p>
<p>"Since you suggested it—"  &lt;zip&gt; &lt;shift&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;gulp of horror&gt;  "KRYCEK."
</p>
<p>"Yes?"  &lt;innocently&gt;
</p>
<p>"Put your pants back on!  I don't want to see that!"
</p>
<p>&lt;speculatively&gt;  "Are you sure?  You don't look as if you mind it all that much—I mean—" &lt;a gesturing swish&gt;
</p>
<p>"I mind very much; this is a public elevator and we are public citizens and if someone should happen to find us—"
</p>
<p>"Fine, just shut up with the prim and proper crap.  I don't need to hear that." &lt;zip&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt; &lt;tension crackling palpably&gt;  "I'm NOT gay, Krycek."
</p>
<p>"Uh huh."
</p>
<p>"I'm NOT.  You've been spying—haven't you seen my collection?"
</p>
<p>"Yeah, you have porn.  That doesn't mean—"
</p>
<p>"Yes, it does.  I am in no way attracted to men.  Stop speculating."  &lt;shuffle&gt;  "And don't look at me like that, damn it."
</p>
<p>&lt;snicker&gt;  "Tell me this, Mulder.  Why haven't you hopped in the sack with the lovely Agent Scully?"
</p>
<p>"She's my PARTNER."
</p>
<p>"That's never stopped anyone in the past.  I can't imagine you as the soul of propriety, Mulder, especially with all of the other regulations you've broken over the years.. and I see the way she looks at you."
</p>
<p>"I like blondes."
</p>
<p>"Yeah, right."
</p>
<p>"I'm not going to argue with you again about something that has no merit and no relation to reality."
</p>
<p>"Mulder, you're in denial.  And if you don't admit it, I'll—"
</p>
<p>"You'll what?"
</p>
<p>"You won't like it, Mulder."
</p>
<p>"Maybe not, but what are you going to do?"
</p>
<p>"Tell you something."
</p>
<p>"That's supposed to push me out of denial when I'm not even in denial in the first place?"
</p>
<p>"Yup."
</p>
<p>"So what is it?"
</p>
<p>"You fucked Agent Pendrell."
</p>
<p>&lt;lunge&gt; &lt;crash&gt; &lt;scuffle&gt; &lt;oof&gt; &lt;punching sounds&gt;
</p>
<p>"You BASTARD, you were spying on PENDRELL—he's not even—"
</p>
<p>"Fuck, Mulder, it wasn't me—Marita told me about it— c'mon—" &lt;groan&gt;
</p>
<p>"I'll kick your skinny goodfornothing ass—Marita's too, that U.N. hosebeast bitch—"
</p>
<p>&lt;more struggling sounds anad occasional grunts&gt;
</p>
<p>"Just hold STILL, Mulder, so I can—"
</p>
<p>&lt;scuffling winds to a halt.  smacking sounds ensue&gt;
</p>
<p>"Mmm.."
</p>
<p>&lt;smack&gt; &lt;gulp&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;loud breaths&gt;
</p>
<p>"Ohhhhhh."
</p>
<p>"Do I have your consent now?"
</p>
<p>"Y-y-yeah.  But I don't have any—"
</p>
<p>&lt;crackle&gt;  "I do."
</p>
<p>"In your jacket pocket, at the HOOVER building?"
</p>
<p>&lt;another crackle from the jacket&gt;
</p>
<p>"That too?" &lt;shocked&gt;  "Lord, Krycek, I didn't think you were that—"
</p>
<p>"You never know what could happen, Mulder.  I prefer to be prepared for all eventualities."   &lt;more smacking&gt; &lt;zip&gt; &lt;zip&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;smack&gt; &lt;cough&gt;  "Yes, but I didn't think—"
</p>
<p>"Mulder, SHUT UP and let me jump your bones already."
</p>
<p>"Sorry."
</p>
<p>&lt;sounds of clothes being tossed to and fro&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;incredulously&gt;  "SMURFS?"
</p>
<p>"Yes."  &lt;defiant&gt;
</p>
<p>"You have SMURFS on your boxers.. god almighty, Mulder.."
</p>
<p>"Your turn to shut up, Krycek."
</p>
<p>&lt;cough&gt; &lt;groan&gt; &lt;shuffle&gt;
</p>
<p>"You like that?"
</p>
<p>&lt;moan&gt;
</p>
<p>"Guess you do.  Okay.."
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt; &lt;pant&gt;
</p>
<p>"Mmm.."
</p>
<p>&lt;gasp&gt; &lt;moan&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;pant&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;noise&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>"Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop.."
</p>
<p>"I'm not, close your.. no, don't close your mouth.."
</p>
<p>&lt;smacking noises&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;breathless&gt; "Oh.. yeah.. right here."
</p>
<p>"Gotcha."
</p>
<p>&lt;moan&gt; &lt;moan&gt; &lt;shuffle&gt; &lt;pant&gt; &lt;roll&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt; &lt;noise&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;moan&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;pause&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;louder moans&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;noise&gt;
</p>
<p>"JESUS CHRIST, KRYCEK."
</p>
<p>&lt;pant&gt; &lt;moan&gt; &lt;roll&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;purring&gt; "Okay."
</p>
<p>"Okay?"
</p>
<p>"Mmm."
</p>
<p>"Don't you want me to—"
</p>
<p>"That's okay, Mulder.  I'm gonna save my turn for next time."
</p>
<p>"Oh.  If you.."
</p>
<p>"I do."
</p>
<p>&lt;yawn&gt; &lt;satisfied sigh&gt;  "I'm tired.  Against all logic.."
</p>
<p>"We can sleep.  They won't find us for—hm—well, a long time."
</p>
<p>"We'd hear it, anyway, and wake up."
</p>
<p>"Mhmm.. yep.."
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;ruffle&gt;  "You know, I really do like your hair, Mulder.. it's very.."
</p>
<p>"Yeah?"
</p>
<p>"Hell.  I'm not good at this mushy after-the-fact stuff."
</p>
<p>"I don't mind.  I just want to sleep, really, Krycek.."
</p>
<p>"I know.  But I wanted you to know what an irresistibly delectable creature you are, Mulder.."
</p>
<p>"You told me that earlier, when you tried to shove your tongue down my throat—mm."
</p>
<p>&lt;smacking noise&gt; &lt;groan&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;sigh&gt;
</p>
<p>"And you also have a very nice ass.  Nothing like a fish.  Or a chipmunk."
</p>
<p>"Shh."
</p>
<p>"Night.."
</p>
<p>&lt;silence constituting several hours, with the exception of minute shifts in position&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;clang&gt;
</p>
<p>"OH MY GOD!"
</p>
<p>"Erg!"
</p>
<p>"MULDER!  Holy—KRYCEK!?"
</p>
<p>&lt;shuffle&gt; &lt;rustle&gt;
</p>
<p>"Sculleeeeeeeeeeee, I can explain..."
</p>
<p>"FUCKWAD!  When I get through with you, Mulder, you little piece of shit, I'm gonna—you were supposed to—OOOOH!  BASTARD!"  
</p>
<p>&lt;thwacking noises&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;aside&gt;  "So that's where you got it from, Mulder.."
</p>
<p>&lt;oof&gt; &lt;groan&gt;  "Oh—" &lt;cough&gt; "go to hell, Krycek."
</p>
<p>"Too late.  We're already roasting in it."
</p>
<p>&lt;thwap&gt; &lt;punching sounds&gt; &lt;periodic grunts and moans of distress&gt;
</p>
<p>&lt;thump, thump, thump.. pause&gt; &lt;gasp&gt;  "SMURFS?!"
</p>
<p> The End 
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <a id="notes" name="notes"></a>
</p>
<table>
  <tbody>
    <tr>
      <td> Date:        December 1999
<br/>Contact:     [email removed], feedback givers adored.
<br/>Spoilers:    general Krycek—Tunguska/Terma.
<br/>Rating:      R for plentiful, unabashed swearing and non-explicit              though fairly obvious sex between two men.  If you're              offended or young, skedaddle.  Danke.  And if you are              offended, you should probably go and get a clue.
<br/>Pairing:     Mulder/Krycek slash
<br/>Summary:     Mulder and Krycek find themselves stuck in rather close              quarters.. devilish things follow.
<br/>Warning:     This is one of the first fanfic things I ever tried to              write.  It's an all-dialogue parody type thing.
<br/>Disclaimer:  Chris Carter owns the X-Files.  He stole them from              Mulder and Scully, and now I'm stealing them from him.
<br/>Disclaimer:  The (single) lyric belongs to Depeche Mode.<br/>In case you find it a bit hard to follow at first, it's late at night in D.C., there's not much to do, and Mulder is in the Hoover Building, as usual.  This is set after Tunguska but before Patient X/The Red and the Black.. thus, there was no kiss.  I assume some nice things about our beloved Krycek.  If you want him cruel and evil and betraying, go elsewhere.  Another note—any smacking sounds you might hear are a result of kissing, not slapping.  The beatings are portrayed in other ways.  And, um, this is fanciful and silly, so I don't much care if the details are accurate. 
</td>
    </tr>
  </tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>